


Nowldia is sick of everyones shit (this could be solved if we just talked this out like normal people: the rp/fic)

by flamingribbons, itshabitchual



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reversed Roles, F/M, I don't know if we know where we're going with this asdfhkj, M/M, Multiple Apprentices, Nadia is an owl ghost and Lucio is alive as the Count, Roleplay Logs, Very OC-centric, aka they are Julian's apprentices instead and Asra is an outlaw, events here are not accurate to the events of the game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 22:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17292458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingribbons/pseuds/flamingribbons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/itshabitchual/pseuds/itshabitchual
Summary: Count Lucio claims that Asra murdered his wife, Countess Nadia, and now looks for revenge. He calls upon the two mages, Varoti and Aurie, that live with the town doctor, Julian, to go on a manhunt for the "murderous" fugitive, Asra. The mages feel that they may have been tied up in this whole predicament earlier in their lives, but unfortunately cannot remember what had happened during that time. They head out on their search for Asra... and the truth.





	1. Night - Julian leaves

**Author's Note:**

> to make this easier to read, we decided to put what we wrote in different colors.  
> this color is for flamingribbons' writing  
> and this color is for itshabitchual's writing  
> hope it isn't too confusing!

"Julian?" Varoti mumbled. He was awoken by the sudden lift of weight from their bed. "Another night call?"  
  
He rubbed his eyes as one of his roommates, the well-known city doctor, fixed his clothes to go out. He often got called out at odd times to tend to patients at their homes. A nosy crow, Malak, would come by and tap at their window to notify him when someone was in need. It was all the doctor needed to wake up, being the light sleeper that he was.

Sometimes, Julian had to wonder if Malak slept. Then again, he wasn’t one to talk, not when he had _just_ gotten to sleep when the beloved bird came tapping at his windowpane. _Ah well, it’s not like I needed it, anyway._ He groaned as he sat up, taking a moment to tuck the covers around Varoti before tiptoeing away to find some clothes— black, to hide the blood, he’d half-joke— and his kit.  
  
“Unfortunately so, dearest. I wonder what it could be this late at night.” The doctor crossed over once more to press his lips to Varoti’s cheek before heading to the door. “Go back to sleep. Who knows, I might pick up some pumpkin flavored treats for you two on the way back.”  
  
Once downstairs, his path to the door was intercepted yet again, this time by a candle and pair of gold eyes, glowing faintly in the darkness like those of a cat. They belonged to none other than Aurie, the mage he’d taken in on a whim only about a year ago.  
  
In that past year, he might have had the luck to witness her sleeping only once. “Back to sleep with you too, Aurie,” he muttered, to which she only responded with a soft, breathy laugh as the door shut behind him.

Varoti pulled the covers over his beet-red face. He wondered how long it had been since Julian started treating him this way. Whatever the case, there was no way he'd be able to fall back to sleep now with his emotions stirred. He sat up once he was sure Julian had left and went down the creaky stairs, following the faint glow of candlelight.  
  
"Oh, Aurie," he straightened up his gown and blinked, his eyes adjusting. "Have you been up all night again? I assume you know Julian had to leave," he sighed softly. The doctor worked too much, and he wished he could help take more of the load off of his shoulders. He was doing a very good favor for the citizens though, and Varoti knew Julian was the one they trusted, especially with all the help he'd given during the plague.

Upon hearing Julian leave, Aurie had rolled over in the motion to sleep without any of the intention. Her attention was turned to the weak orb of light that had been extracted from the candle, which was whisked back into hiding beneath the couch when she heard a second pair of footsteps descending the stairs. It didn’t take the doctor’s perceptive eye to puzzle out that she hadn’t slept, so she sat up and waved to Varoti, a relaxed smile on her face.  
  
“I noticed, do you think it’ll be really good or really bad?” It was hard to tell, really. The Cetilons at the edge of town were expecting, but there were also a couple final straggling plague victims scattered throughout the region. How unlucky.  
  
“That doesn’t explain why you’re up though, does it?” She could guess from the last of a fading flush on his cheeks, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to tease him for it.

"I... Malak woke me." Varoti knew that Aurie could see through his dumb white lie. He wasn't such a light sleeper to be woken by that bird anyway, and she knew it. "One can only hope it's good this time. Gods know he's seen too much death." He didn't want another day when there was emptiness in Julian's eye as he walked back through the front door.  
  
Even though Varoti didn't remember times during the height of the plague, he knew that the death toll was very high, and that Julian handled most. Although it was morbid to think, he hoped the remaining victims passed soon so that Julian needn't worry about being called out for another.  
  
"You really should go to sleep, Aurie. Would you like a nightcap at least? You know you can ask one of us if you need one." It was only logical that they try to take care of their roommate that they- more Julian, really- took in. "I know it's because you like to practice your magic late at night, and that's good, but there's gotta be a better time."

“Good or bad, that’s what we’re here for,” Aurie ventured, unsure if she liked the way ‘we’ rolled from her tongue. “That’s what you’re here for.”  
  
_That’s better._  
  
She was no closer to getting answers as to why two virtual strangers would open their home to her a year ago, so at this point she thought it best to simply stop asking and accept the drink her ever concerned roommate was offering.  
  
“I—sure? I know, but I won’t get any better if it’s never challenging. Magic is something one must persist at.” She bobbed her head thoughtfully as she wandered into the kitchen, the orb of light trailing her fingertips.  
  
She got out two glasses and set them in front of him, a wry quirk of her lips offset by the tilt of her head. “But I’m sure you know that.”

Varoti flinched for a moment. "What? If you mean to say that I can relate, then yes. Medicine is also something someone has to be persistent with. Ratios are everything."  
  
He got out a bottle of sweet-smelling liqueur and poured a small amount in each glass. He knew that alcohol wasn't the greatest nightcap and he could very easily make tea, but he felt it was more appropriate for the situation.

She’d let it be for now, though she’d be lying if it didn’t strike her as curious that he would deny his own abilities. However, it wasn't like she hadn’t plenty of sore spots of her own. If that was the part of him he chose to let wither, she wasn’t going to be the one to stop him.  
  
That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to ask later.  
  
Aurie swirled the liquid in her glass before raising it, waggling her eyebrows wryly at Varoti. “To a good night’s sleep and a good day ahead, then.”


	2. Morning - Argument

Julian squinted through the first morning rays, his free hand over his face for shade. Their bedroom curtains were still drawn; that was good. It meant Varoti was probably still asleep, and he’d have a chance to wash up and put on a cheerful face, untouched by the gloom of death.  
  
“…Aurie?” Julian whispered, peeking into the sitting room.  
  
Surprisingly, there was no response. Had it not been for the light hiss of breath, he would have assumed she’d either died (probably from lack of sleep) or gone out. After setting the pumpkin bread in the kitchen, the doctor went upstairs as quietly as he could, shedding his dirtied overcoat as well as the rest of his clothes just outside of the bathroom door.

Varoti _had_ fallen back to sleep, but after waking up previously, he wasn't able to fall into a deep one. Just the sound of running water was enough to lift him out of bed. He looked towards the bathroom door where Julian's clothes were piled, taking it as a sign there would be no good news that morning.  
  
He didn't want to leave Julian alone when he could sense what he had been needed for last night. "Good morning, Julian," he greeted softly and stepped into the bathroom with the tall man. Varoti's arms made their way around Julian's back to bring him into a hug from behind, careful to avoid the unwanted view of Julian's presumably grave expression. He pressed his cheek against the cool skin of his shoulder.  
  
_Just a few moments, and then I'll start breakfast,_ Varoti thought once the scent of fresh pumpkin bread wafted up to his nose.

Julian was quick about it; he was in the tub as soon as it filled, a quick scrubdown with a handful of soap, and then a couple minutes just to soak and relax, remind himself that his infinitely long day could only get better from here.  
  
Since having met **him** , time as any other person saw it fell out of use. The sky could change all it wanted, but it just felt like he was running a marathon against time. The rare moments he did sleep were less so demarcations of days and more small naps, an endless stream of breaks and work and mourning to get through, repeating endlessly.  
  
It would feel lonely if Varoti didn’t exist. The second _him_ , who would be waking up very soon if not already, made his life almost feel worth living. Julian couldn’t keep his thoughts from it as he got out and dried off, nor the small smile that spread across his face when _he_ unexpectedly stepped in, winding his arms around Julian like he sensed he was needed.  
  
“Just who I was thinking about,” Julian murmured, pressing his lips to Varoti’s knuckles. “Good morning, Varoti. How did you sleep?"

"Not too well since you left." He squeezed, holding Julian tighter to him. "It's unfair, getting to rest more while you have to work. I should be going out there with you." Varoti thought that maybe then, Julian wouldn't have to handle it all on his own. What was a physician's assistant good for if he wasn't assisting?  
  
He was instead left inside the shop all day to organize baskets of herbs, care for the leeches, and make balms. Of course he knew those tasks were important and helped Julian in his field work, (and he did kind of enjoy them) but he felt like he needed to do _more_. Not just as a doctor, but for Julian as well. All he could at the moment was try his best at making the rest of the day a decent one.

“Ah, you’re all wet now. You couldn’t wait for me to clothe myself first?” Julian teased, making a weak mock attempt to reach over the bathtub for the drain. If only he could hug back from this position! It was no secret he enjoyed this nonetheless, judging by the grin on his face, though what Varoti said next made a little crinkle form in his brows.  
  
Julian never had a perfect response to this. He couldn’t very well say he wanted to shield his companion from their own line of work, true as it may be. Suffering and death were show-offs, and he was not willing to let another into its audience. Referring to the risk of spreading disease was better, but still not a perfect answer.  
  
“We’re both getting as much rest as we need,” He finally said, choosing his words with almost clinical precision as he gently unwound himself from Varoti’s arms, turning to pull him close to his chest instead. “Besides, I would rather you be well rested and able to run the place while I’m out. We all know our dear mage downstairs has a…different skill set than you do.”

Varoti stiffened when Julian pulled him into his chest. Being bare wasn't normally something Varoti would be embarrassed about, but it was different when they were _so close_ from their fronts- even with his now damp nightgown between. He wanted to let Julian hug if he needed it, but he felt himself quickly losing the ability to function. Blush hot on his cheeks, he pulled away some.  
  
"You know that's not true," he grumbled. Julian always looked exhausted. He would probably need at least a whole week to catch up on lost sleep.  
  
At Julian's last statement, Varoti's eyebrow raised. "And what is that supposed to mean? I feel Aurie is perfectly capable of helping around the shop. And in any case, it's not as if the shop needs much running when you're gone _at night_. I want to be of more use." He kept his eyes fixated anywhere but Julian as he spoke.

It was in this exact moment that Julian thinks he’s somehow fucked up and gone too far with it, that Varoti might think it was a bad joke when he actually _did_ , in some embarrassing-nonchalant-affection sort of way, forget that he just pulled him into a damp hug.  
  
That is, until he sees the burn of red on his cheeks, which reminds him of the brief, beautiful spring season in Nevivon, when the hills lit up with red wildflowers. He laughs, unable to help himself from caressing Varoti’s cheek, lifting his chin gently to look at him.  
  
Julian knows he is caught in a fib about the sleep, that being immune to death by the lack of it is not the same as not needing it, but he deflects. “I know you deserve a full night’s rest.”  
  
But he doesn’t stop there.  
  
_Now_ Julian knows he’s actually fucked up; as it turns out, talent with a scalpel gave little indication of tact. At this point, it was less a surgery and more of a bomb defusing. “I…never meant….” He hesitates. “Aurie is absolutely capable in the shop and brilliant at her craft, believe me, it’s not because I lack faith in her. Don’t go downstairs and tell her the wrong thing, now.”  
  
Alright, that wasn’t a bad start. _This is reasonable, Varoti will understand. I hope._  
  
The doctor sucks in another breath, lips screwed up like a twisted red string in thought. “ _In any case_ , you’re a better trained physician than she is. If I must be away all day and something happens, say someone comes in with anything worse than a broken arm, _you_ are more prepared to handle it. Trust me, Varoti, you are more useful than you give yourself credit for. And-- I want you around me regardless."

Varoti subconsciously leaned into Julian's caress. Although his hand guided him to look at him, he averted his eyes. He gulped, feeling he'd become like a pouting little kid.  
  
As Julian talked on, Varoti felt offended. ' _Don't go downstairs and tell her the wrong thing_ '. Hah! Who did he think he was? He opened his mouth for a reply, but Julian continued.  
  
"I-" he started, but fell silent a moment after. It may have been true that he was needed in the shop for other patients during the day, but really, how often was that? And _worse_ than a broken arm? He shut his eyes, knit his brows, and took a deep breath before moving his head away. "I'm going to go make coffee."


	3. In the kitchen

Varoti went down to the kitchen to start what he said he'd be doing, but took a moment to stand by the counter and breathe. ' _I want you around me regardless_ '? Like that would make him change his mind. However, it didn't help with lessening the color of Varoti's cheeks, either.

_I should’ve just kept my mouth shut._ Julian thinks to himself, all of a sudden keenly aware of Varoti’s absence as he lets his hand drop to his side. Neither of them were wrong, he keeps telling himself. Varoti just wanted to help, and he just wanted Varoti near him. What was that thing Asra never said to him? _It’s not you I don’t trust, it's the world around you._  
  
He sighs and leaves to find a fresh set of clothes.  
  
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘  
  
Aurie had been up since the crack of dawn, rolling the soft morning light between her fingers until she felt like rising herself. Nothing was really secret in a building of this size, meaning she could hear every creak, every footstep, everything above a whisper. She couldn’t _not_ hear it all, even if she wanted.  
  
Breakfast was her way of drowning the morning noise out, having cracked sugared eggs into a pan the moment she heard Varoti’s footsteps head toward the bathroom. By the time he’d come downstairs, Aurie was halfway through a slice of pumpkin bread, stirring spices into a pot of rice porridge.  
  
“That was fast. And quieter than I expected. I kind of thought at least one of you would be a screamer.” She muffles a burst of laughter behind her hand. "Or at least kind of loud collectively, y’know?"

Varoti flinched, startled. He was so caught up in his and Julian's conversation that he'd barely realized she was there. " **_Aurie!_ ** " he scolded. The blush he was harboring did anything but settle. " _Nothing like that happened._ " He knew the mage was jesting, but he couldn't leave his silence up for interpretation.  
  
He put the water and grounds into the coffee pot and set it next to the one Aurie worked from, keeping silent. He usually struck up conversation in the morning. He'd talk about what they were having for breakfast, tasks to do in the shop that day, _something_ , but it all would have felt forced.

Aurie laughs again when he chastises her, sneaking a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He was so red, you’d have guessed she’d just slapped him as hard as she could. “Oh, I believe you. But it should’ve happened.”  
  
She would have continued teasing, but she felt something-- a sour drop in his aura told her to leave it alone for now. This wasn’t the usual embarrassment he gave out when she teased, besides, she wouldn’t have continued to beat him over the head with it for so long if he wasn’t also at least enjoying himself a little.  
  
Chewing her bottom lip, Aurie unabashedly turns to study his face, quickly closing in on his personal bubble. Perhaps their interaction hadn’t gone as well as she’d thought? “A-Anyway. Um. Did he tell you? Who died this time?"

Varoti wasn't able to have the reactions he would normally. He said nothing after her second attempt at teasing him, and stared blankly at the boiling water in the pot. The disagreement he and Julian had wasn't even that bad, he thought. They'd been through similar before, but he was still upset.  
  
The silence was thick, filled only with the sounds of bubbles and cooking porridge. Then Aurie spoke again, but the sounds coming from her mouth did nothing to lighten the atmosphere.  
  
His heart felt heavy at the question. "Aurie, I don't ask him questions like that. Not until later, at least." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "No, he didn't tell me. Probably wouldn't have anyway."

“Maybe I will ask him. He’s coming down, I think,” Golden eyes flashed toward the ceiling, as she set the table, an oddly pleased smile on her face, as if their previous exchange of words had not touched her. In reality, she just wanted it to end it there, and would just leave if not for the knowledge that she could have done it a little more gracefully.  
  
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘  
  
Julian ran a hand through damp red curls as he descended the stairs slowly, as if he was stalling for an answer, the right words to say, to just come to him. Was he wrong to not want Varoti to push himself as far as he had? Looking off the edge was not something to envy, he would know, but there was no way Varoti would believe him by word alone.  
  
His own thoughts had cornered him, but no one else had to know that.  
  
“Good morning!” Julian said, forcing the cheerfulness as he passed, patting Aurie’s head and, after a moment's hesitation, kissing the top of Varoti’s. This elicits a wavy giggle from the mage, the one a nervous Aurie makes. _Odd._ He nudges his way in between them, glancing side to side with raised eyebrows and busies himself with plates.  
  
“Breakfast smells delicious—ah, why don't you let me serve it? I’m late, after all. Come sit, you two."

The gall of Julian to act like Varoti wasn't still disappointed made him even more uptight. He hadn't even seen what their conversation was all about. Because there he was, trying to take care of him again. "Julian, no." He took the plates from him and sat them down in place. Julian was the one who'd had the hard night. Varoti's whole purpose initially was to try to do something for _him_ for once, so he wasn't going to let that be taken away again.  
  
"You're going to sit down and enjoy this nice breakfast Aurie made. And _I'm_ serving it."

Julian opens his mouth to protest, but relents with a minimally amused “Yes sir.” He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that Varoti’s authoritative voice was attractive, but now was not the time nor place to mention that.  
  
What he saw as no problem was clearly something more to Varoti, and judging by the way Aurie glanced skittishly between the two of them, the tension was overwhelming to her, at least. He wondered if she was seeing something that he wasn’t, the same way **he** did, but didn’t want to meddle.  
  
Whatever was going on with these magic types, Julian was sure he would never understand. “Thank you for making breakfast,” He tries, attempting to lighten her mood at least, though all she replies with is a slight nod and a shrug, chewing her lip in thought. “You too, Varoti. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you.”  
  
“You could not fight,” The girl pipes up, voice like a tightly wound string.  
  
Julian raises an eyebrow at her, glancing at Varoti. “We didn’t fight, did we?”

Varoti tried to hide a small smile that appeared for a mere moment when Julian obeyed. He wondered if he should be demanding more often.  
  
Julian was trying to keep positive, he knew it. His sweet remarks were quite convincing. He would have nearly been won over (it was fairly easy to make Varoti swoon) had it not been for Julian's obliviousness about his mood. Perhaps he hadn't noticed because it was such a rare occurrence.  
  
He paused in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee and blinked incredulously. "No, of course not, Julian. Us? Fight?" he chuckled weakly, "No, it was more like a disagreement. Not much of a _fight_." He finished pouring the coffee and handed it to Aurie, giving her something to drown herself in. The poor girl looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. "No," he repeated, needing to say it again to calm himself, and perhaps as a weak attempt to reassure Aurie.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Hearing Varoti reassure her was helpful, even if he didn’t sound convinced himself. He got the feeling he was slapping a band-aid on an open wound, that whatever he’d missed was going to bite him in the ass later on. “…We’re fine. "  
  
Aurie on the other hand, doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, side-eyeing the less-than-happy couple behind her coffee mug. She’s not even sure why it mattered enough to stutter her entire being— neither of them would be so immature as to let their relationship crumble over _one_ argument— all she knows is that she can’t feel anything else over the haze of unease coating the air.  
  
She hates the silence, but the noise will be worse, so she says nothing throughout the meal. There isn’t much else to preoccupy herself with aside from watching them maneuver around each other and herself, in reality and conversation.  
  
Julian is talking at both of them, something about watching the shop while he went out for the afternoon, all of which she just blindly nods to since most of it is nothing new. Aside from the fragile air, it seemed like a typical day of teasing Varoti while he worked and doing some reading of her own in between customers.

Varoti sighed, giving in. There was no point in creating a fight over this now. "Yeah, we're fine." He said to himself and tried to enjoy his breakfast like normal with his housemates.  
  
Julian talked as if he hadn't come back from watching someone die, and acted like it would be a normal day. Varoti felt like he'd been ignored, his feelings pushed aside. "Next time then?" He asked, finally looking Julian in the eye. "Next time, can I go with you? I don't mind staying in the shop for today if that's what you want, but... please?" He glanced at Aurie, "Aurie can take care of the shop, can't you Aurie? Maybe I can show her new things today."

Their little _disagreement_ unravelled before her so easily, so transparently, Aurie was almost amused. She wasn’t so much surprised at what it was about, more that Varoti was so shameless as to ask right in front of her, _use her_ , when just a minute ago, they were cold with avoidance of the subject.  
  
She didn’t mind all that much though. No matter what she did, the mage always felt indebted to the two of them for welcoming a virtual stranger into their own home so soon after the incident that left a gaping hole in the city in more ways than one.  
  
“Of course! I’ve always wondered how you feed the leeches without getting bitten,”  She says, flashing Julian a smile that she hoped looked more cute and enthusiastic, less apprehensive.  
  
Julian is equally stunned, if not a little more. Varoti was bargaining with him? Why was this so important? The pleading in his eyes is wearing away at him, his insides feeling like chocolate melting in the sun. For a moment, he wants to agree. What was the harm in letting Varoti come along once?  
  
“We’ll see about next time,” He finally says, his smile tenuous but genuine, as a couple hundred of things that could go wrong play in the back of his mind. He feels like he’s letting his guard down, letting pointless worry crack the emotional dam he’d built. Better get going before something tumbles out. “Let’s clean up and get through today first.”

Varoti frowned at his (now cold) coffee. He thought that would've made Julian agree. Why wouldn't he let him? He knew that Julian's excuses earlier weren't the real reasons. Varoti didn't _need_ protection. Although he may have been acting childish now, he was no child. Plus, he wanted to be there for Julian to lighten the burden he carried back every time. Hopefully that small smile that appeared was a glimmer of hope of change for Varoti.  
  
"Yes, of course." ' _Master_ ,' he sarcastically tacked on in his head, but regretted it immediately. The idea was too disturbing. He gave Aurie a thankful look before getting up to put the dishes in a bucket for cleaning later.  
  
Almost eagerly, he grabbed Julian's extra overcoat and stood near the door to see him out.

Julian studied Varoti’s face a moment longer than he needed to really, studying his features for some kind of indication that he _believed_ him. He figures he only has himself to blame on this one— Varoti was too sharp to _not_ have noticed, but that was one of the few things Julian found attractive on him.  
  
“….Right. Off I go, then,” He says, gathering his things.“Don’t bother with the dishes, I can do them when I get—“ Aurie cuts him off wordlessly with a reproachful, piercing stare and a shake of the head. She’s throwing him some sort of hint, but whatever the message was, it wasn’t being translated right in his head.  
  
“—home. Um. Or not, if you want to do them? Ah, thanks for getting that, Varoti. I’ll be back this evening! ” A little awkwardly, Julian bends down and kisses Varoti’s cheek as he takes his coat and leaves.  
  
As soon as she hears the door slam, Aurie cracks a grin, twirling her hair into a somewhat more manageable bun, like a crown worn just off center. “He always looks like he’s going to trip over his own feet when he’s rushing.”

_Today is not going to suck. We are going to have dinner and god forbid, talk like friends, and maybe I’ll have to actually drown out their noise tonight. I can’t believe I would rather have that._ She’s also gathering things: paper, pen, and three books, each in a different language. "So when _do_ the leeches get fed?”


	4. Lucio appears

Before Varoti has the chance to retort though, there is an insistent knock on their door, a series of sharp raps, too quick to count. Aurie hesitates, shooting him a puzzled look. They hadn’t lit the lamp yet, but it wasn’t like anyone thought they ever closed, especially with ever-restless Julian.  
  
Still, it was awfully early, and Malak was nowhere to be seen.  
  
The knocking turned to pounding, no less intense or fast. The voice, rough and bitter sounding, seems to carry itself straight through the heavy wooden door, manifesting like a spirit inside their home. **_”Well??? Can I get some help here or not? I know you’re in there, mages!”_ **

Varoti couldn't help but smile a little. The poor lanky man really did always look like he was going to trip over his feet. Julian's attempts at staying normal, kissing him on the head and cheek, were both infuriating and reassuring. He rested his head on the door for a moment, and opened his mouth to reply to Aurie when someone knocked at the door, startling him.  
  
It was still early, before they opened for services. Varoti hadn't even taken the time to change out of his nightgown yet. The person outside started banging on the door after a mere moment of waiting and yelled through to them. Their attitude already gave him a bad feeling.  
  
He turned to look through the peephole at who had come, and gasped slightly at the sight of a silver eye staring through the hole back at him. He opened the door just enough for half of his body to show.  
  
"Why, if it isn't Count Lucio," he projected so that Aurie could hear, "what brings you here so early?"

Aurie narrowed her eyes at the familiar voice that she couldn’t quite place, motioning for Varoti to leave it alone. He had already turned away and, much to her chagrin, cracked the door open a fraction.  
  
_The_ Count Lucio? What the _hell_ could he want with them? She recalled Julian mentioning that the Count was personally not fond of him, and aside from his very public appearances, she assumed she wouldn’t have to see him around much. She headed toward the door as well, with half the mind to force it shut, but falters at his words.  
  
In all of his gaudy glory, the count glowers down at Varoti, stepping into the doorway, attempting to look inside. “Are you deaf? Do I have to SHOUT to get your attention? Perhaps you’re just RUDE, since you haven’t even invited me inside yet.”  
  
Catching sight of Aurie mid stride to the door, Lucio nearly pushes Varoti away, his foot still in the door as he straightens up. “At least one of us knows how to properly greet your _leader_ . Isn’t that right, _pet?”_  
  
The shorter mage has to swallow a hot ball of anger knotting up her throat as she closes her hand over the doorknob and Varoti’s hand, opening the door all the way to let Lucio in. “O-of course, you’ll have to excuse us; we’ve just finished breakfast and haven’t finished our morning preparations.”  
  
They walk side by side toward the couch she’d been sleeping on just an hour prior,  though she shoots Varoti a wide-eyed look of alarm as they pass. “How can we be of service to you, um, Count Lucio?”  
  
“Let’s say I have… a _special_ project that only magic can solve." Lucio crosses his legs, glancing at Varoti with a roll of his silver eyes and raises his voice a fraction. "Are you going to JOIN US over there, Varoti?”

Varoti was stunned. His breakfast was already threatening to come up with the shock of Count Lucio barging into their home. He stumbled as he was nearly shoved out of his majesty's way. As if Lucio's visits into the city weren't already bad enough,  seeing him up close and personal could be nothing short of horrible.  
  
He grimaced at how he addressed them, especially Aurie. _'Pet?_ I think _not,'_ he thought to himself, knowing that if he uttered anything but kind words to their city's leader he would likely be slaughtered. He gave Aurie an equally worried look as the two passed.  
  
He gulped when Lucio rolled his narrow eyes at him. Varoti hadn't done much yet, but he was clearly not starting off on the Count's good side. His blood ran cold as he heard his name come from Lucio's voice. Surely the Count wouldn't know the names of his citizens, being as absorbed in himself as he was. "I- me? Yes, of course m'lord. Just a moment."  
  
He closed the front door quietly and walked as politely as possible over into Aurie and Lucio's vicinity, his legs starting to feel like gelatin. He tidied his nightgown as much as one could. His heart thrummed in his chest as he thought about how pitiful he must look to the Count. "Did you say magic, sire?" Every word of respect Varoti felt forced to utter inched his still digesting food ever closer to his throat.

Aurie may have been all smiles and soft voices, but her heart was threatening to beat right out of her chest. Nothing she knew about the count gave him a reason to visit— didn’t he have better things to do than rudely barge into his citizens’ houses early in the morning?  
  
Lucio clears his throat, shifting his gaze between them with a pretentious, knowing look on his face. “I _did_ say ‘magic'. Is he always this dense?”  
  
The count continues, his face dropping into a scowl. “We will not discuss details here— that bastard Devorak or his stupid bird could be listening. You are both to meet me at the palace this afternoon—don't come looking like peasants.” Then without any sort of prompting, he rises again and sees himself out, swiping a slice of the pumpkin bread as he passes. **“Four o’clock! Don’t forget!”**  
  
Aurie is silent, unsure of what to make of the information that had just been dropped on her like a bag of bricks. She is silent through the faint sound of Count Lucio spitting the bread out dramatically, with _“Ugh! Its so dry! How could anyone live like this?!”_ and the slow clopping of hooves until he was long gone.  
  
The idea of having to see his face again today was horrible. Somehow though, even worse than that, than being called ‘pet’ and Julian ‘bastard’, was hearing Lucio call Varoti by his real name without ever having asked, and that Lucio somehow knew he knew magic, even when Julian didn’t.  
  
She wants to ask, but given how uneasy Varoti looks, the reaction would be less than desirable at best, risking some piece of her life at worst. Then there was still the question of the shop— Julian would probably understand that they had to close up early, right?  
  
A few minutes pass before she snaps out of it. “I’m…uh…going to make myself look less like a _peasant_ now?"

Varoti's jaw went slack not by being called dense, but by the way the Count dared to call Julian 'bastard' in front of them. He closed his mouth quickly after he realized his expression and continued to feign a positive attitude until he left.  
  
He had heard Lucio insult all of them personally, including one their favorite pumpkin breads before he was definitely out of earshot and sincerely dreaded having to meet with him later on that day. Gods knew there was no way out of it. And the fact that Lucio had called for them _personally_ meant that even more.  
  
They stood in silence for a good while, trying to process the weight of the situation. Varoti mulled over how to describe the meaning of their future absence. It was clear that Julian expected them to be in the shop at his return, and he didn't want to have him mistake his absence for rebellion or something that he did out of frustration. Not that he would- Varoti wasn't like that. He was a man of his word. He was sure if he told the truth, or perhaps part of it, Julian would understand that they had no choice.  
  
He felt Aurie's eyes on him after a couple minutes and looked over to meet hers. "Oh, yeah... good idea, I guess. Uh... me too. Wouldn't want to _offend the count_ any more," he replied before leaving her to herself.  
  
Although Varoti felt like he'd have the same feeling about the meeting without this, the fact that Lucio somehow knew his name and even seemed to know he knew some magic shook him to the core. He wondered if they were being spied on, and so moved to cover the windows and check that the back door was secure before changing.

When they left, she considered selling the robes. She was only a girl, having barely crossed whatever rudimentary line that demarcated childhood and womanhood, with little skill whatsoever. Making her _pretty light shows_ in the street could only make so much to supplement what they’d left her; if she hadn’t come up with a better source of income in two years’ time, ‘home’ would be gone— not that it had ever been called _home_ to begin with.  
  
Wherever this dress was from, that was the home her parents had gone away to. In the end, she decided there was no asking price high enough for her memories, hopes, and the vivid imaginary land she had placed them in, like paper dolls against a hand-drawn background, like they still might be alive and well.  
  
Aurie had finally grown into it too, the dress that was home-but-not. She could even ignore the voice in her head as she gazed in the mirror, the one that said she looked _just like her mother_ as she broke out the hair pieces, too. This was not the situation she envisioned for herself when she tucked it all away all those years ago, but she supposed any occasion at this point was worthy of a wear as long as she was.  
  
Her only regret was not leaving the preparation, as long as it took, for a bit later. “It’s getting kind of warm..” She muttered to herself as she went to open some windows, all of which had been closed, the curtains drawn over them. Varoti must have done that, although she didn’t understand why. Maybe he had reason to be paranoid as much as she had reason to be worried that he was secretly working with the Count.

What reason would he have to do so though? Why, if this was true, was she being singled out over everyone else? She’d never met the Count before, or done anything of note. _She was a nobody._ Aurie thought herself in circles, around and around, only ever coming to the same conclusion: she could ask Varoti now, or wait until they reached the palace to see what the Count had to say, but then it may be too late.  
  
As soon as Varoti came downstairs, she chose the former. “We both know you know magic, Varoti.” If she could catch him off guard and get a straight answer first, she thought she’d at least want to know what she was up against. “So what is it? What kind do you know that Lucio could possibly want from you?"

As Varoti looked for clothes, he realized he didn't really have any fancy ones. He hadn't particularly _needed_ any as a doctor. The best clothes he had included high-waisted pants, a puffy white shirt, a brown vest, and boots. He clearly still looked like a 'peasant', and considered glamouring himself. If it weren't for his cover being blown even more, he may have. Aurie was keen, so he resisted using magic as much as possible.  
  
As soon as he came downstairs, Aurie struck him with a question that felt more like an accusation. He knew that she knew he was a magician- it was clear- but the more he denied it, the more he didn't talk about it, the easier the secret was to keep. He'd known Julian had a distaste for magic since they met. It was shown that that hatred was lessening, otherwise he wouldn't have brought Aurie to their home, but Varoti had been keeping it in for so long that it felt wrong to unveil to Julian now.  
  
He was getting pretty good at avoiding Aurie's comments about his magic as well. At least, he thought so. " _Me?_ " he questioned back, "You're the one who knows magic. I could ask you the same!"

They heard a sudden creak in the floorboards before Aurie could respond. Varoti's breath hitched in his throat. Their current discussion would have to wait.


End file.
